Sylvan doesn’t come closer, his blue-gray eyes locked onto mine.
For the first time, I note the cream-colored sweater he’s wearing under his bomber jacket. With his red boots, that scarf, he knows how to dress better than most men twice his age.
Stop, Neve. None of that is important.
“What if he presses charges against you?” The first words out of my mouth, and those are hoarse too. I resist the urge to bring my fingers to my neck to rub at it.
I see Sylvan’s light brows pull together and his jaw seems to clench, but he only pushes his gloved hands into the pockets of his jacket and holds my gaze.
“He won’t.” A simple answer, but I don’t trust him.
“Did you threaten him?”
He smiles, a soft smirk as he glances at the wall, then back to me, shaking his head a little. “You can consider Will Barbour gone, Neve. He’ll never bother you or cross your path again.”
I swallow hard. I’m not sure I ever even knew his last name. And how the fuck does Sylvan? How did he know who he was at all?
“You’re welcome, by the way.” Sylvan dips his chin, his eyes boring into mine. “If I hadn’t come here, he might’ve killed you. You need to learn better self-defense.”
My cheeks burn hot like my temper. “Sorry for getting assaulted,” I snarl. “How do you know where I live? How didhe?How do I know you two aren’t working together in some fucked-up good cop, bad cop situation?”
His expression doesn’t change. “I don’twork withpeople like Will Barbour. Not my type. But speaking of cops, we need to get our stories straight.”
My stomach drops. “Oh no. I’m not lying to the police for you?—”
“Forme?”he echoes. “No, baby girl. This is for you.”
Baby girl.
My head spins, and I have to consciously flex my toes in my Uggs to stop the dizziness that’s overwhelming me with his words, an undertone of panic pricking like a tangible thing at my skin.
“What? Am I a suspect?” I glance at my phone. “They didn’t call me or?—”
“Not yet,” Sylvan cuts me off. “But they don’t have anyone else, so it’s going to come back to us three.”
Faust Darling.I wonder where he is, why only Sylvan came to accost me, but I don’t ask.
“But I didn’t do it.” I speak quickly, as if I’m doing a trial-run of saying all of this again to detectives. “I didn’t bring a knife, and they have cameras and?—”
“There’s no camera there, in that corner.” Sylvan speaks with a coolness that makes me panic more. “Coaches told me that when I had my walk-through tour.”
“But surely the rest would pick up on who else was around the arena. And didn’t we all hear the truck? That’s who they need to?—”
“They are, Neve. Take a breath.” It’s an icy command, no smirk on his face.
I do as he says, only because if I don’t, I’ll pass out, and I don’t trust my unconscious body with Sylvan. Not after I watched what he did to Will’s face, even if Will deserved worse.
“Good girl.” Sylvan watches me carefully, and that blush grows like fire along my face, down my neck. His eyes seem to track the movement, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he looks at the stovetop, and when I turn my head, I realize it’s the digital clock he’s checking.
Nearing ten, which means soon, Cynthia’s pottery course will be over and soon enough she’ll be headed here to tell me what she learned about the girl who was “talking to” Sylvan. For a reckless moment, I think of confiding in him and telling him just that to see what he’ll give me in return. Either in defense or a preemptive confession, but I bite down on my back teeth and don’t speak.
“I doubt we’ll be called in today. They want to review all the footage, ask other people questions. Janitors, anyone lingering in the arena.” Sylvan speaks each word carefully, as if I won’t understand him if he doesn’t. The patronizing aura of it all pisses me off, but at the same time, I’m completely lost in this situation, and he can keep talking, if only so I don’t have to.
“Tomorrow night, it’s game day. Even the police won’t want to screw that up for us.” His arrogance is astounding, but it doesn’t sound like bravado. It sounds like fact. “Faust has something he needs to give you?—”
“What?” I demand, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer.
“You’ll see it tomorrow night, because you’re going to the game.”
